False Happiness
by ForeverWithoutYou
Summary: Maybe she wasn't the most popular-or even close. She was just a girl, the supportive one who stood on the sidelines silently cheering. There's nothing wrong with trying- and failing. But maybe, just maybe, she was happy just the way she was. FujixOCxEiji
1. Prologue: Suppressing Anger

**Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Prince of Tennis.**

**Author's Note: This is my first solo fanfiction that didn't completely suck (well in my opinion). Please feel free to leave creative criticism of what you think. Much appreciated. Enjoy~**

False Happiness

Prologue: Suppressing Anger

It wasn't like I could possibly be jealous of her, I mean, she was my best friend. She was everything to me. I don't know…maybe I wasn't everything to her. It was just strange in that way which everything turns out. But as I was sitting in class, at the front of the classroom, I could hear her- the innocent giggles floating among the students- which oddly caused me to cringe and my fingers that unconsciously clenched into fists. She didn't even care that she had _his_ attention. Him. The utmost popular one- the one who completely and perfectly represented Seishun Gakuen.

He was just…different. With a fake smile plastered on his face that with came forced happiness, came every girls' heart.

Maybe even mine.

I coughed.

But that's irrelevant…

I couldn't help but despise today since the teacher of our science class simply chose this day to have the patience to deal with the swooning girls hovering over the only Fuji Syuusuke and the love-struck boys flowering over my friend, Shigeta Haruka.

They were perfect for each other, I'll give them that. They were just…gorgeous- with their personalities pretending to "love life" and their consistent carefree attitudes. They honestly did deserve all the overwhelming attention they received maybe too generously.

It was even stranger, considering the fact that neither one of them denied the attention. They welcomed it with open arms, depending fully on the attention to keep up the mask of flawlessness.

They were everything anyone would want to be. Prodigies. Geniuses. Nothing short of anyone's expectations.

The bell rang, indicating the end of class. I smiled weakly, reminding myself briefly of the quiz tomorrow and the lecture earlier that I was, unfortunately, not paying attention to.

"Hey Haru-chan!" I shouted slightly, waving to attract her attention. She glanced at me, rotating her body from her conversation and waved back.

I saw her eyes flicker back to the tall figure standing beside her awkwardly.

"Ahh…hello Fuji-san," I smiled politely, "I'll leave first." I headed out of the room, giving them the alone time they wanted. Well, giving Haru the alone time _she_ wanted.

I dragged my feet through the overcrowded hallways, attempting to avoid anyone who would abruptly appear in front of my path home.

It wasn't her fault. She didn't do it on purpose, right? We usually walked home together since we live in the same neighborhood, but I couldn't blame her. After all, who wouldn't want to spend their afternoon socializing with Seigaku's one and only tennis tensai?

I smirked, refusing to answer my own unspoken question. The overwhelming feeling of loneliness overtook my body, and I gripped my stomach, to keep my balance and ease the subtle pain.

I halted at the bus stop, standing under the green maple tree that produced spotted shadows across the cool cement.

We walk home together, only because it gives us time to catch up with one another, despite the fact that we share the same classes. Well, almost all the same classes. I'm taking physical education, she's taking an art class, but it's not too much to catch up on. We just like…talking.

She likes the attention, I like listening. We balance each other out. It's as simple as that.

The bus stopped in front of me with the tires squeaking slightly as it abruptly froze on the concrete. I hopped up the three short stairs and placed myself lazily into a seat near the front.

I felt the bus jerk soon followed by the sound of the doors flying open. An old man holding a cane entered the bus slowly and stood near the entrance. I glanced around the bus, realizing there were no empty seats remaining, I stood up, and moved towards the end of the bus. None of the others were going to stand up, I could tell. They were selfish.

Okay, that was shallow, but what else could I think? I mean, they were those exact people who pretend to be engaged in an 'interesting' conversation, appearing completely oblivious to anything happening within a ten-foot radius.

Just as I reached forward to grab the metal pole, the bus staggered forward, consequently leading to my misplaced footing.

In other words, I fell. Not far, and not hard. Just enough so that my back slammed against the rear of the bus and my head made a forced contact against the solid glass window.

"Itai," I mumbled, still leaning against the wall. I opened my eyes and noticed that surprisingly, no one was staring at me. How strange? I'm not important enough to care about, huh? Maybe I was right about the ten-foot radius hypothesis. I shrugged off the thought and stepped off the bus swiftly determined to escape from the evil machine that just so recently caused me pain.

_Smack._

"Oww," I said loudly this time since the number of bystanders decreased from about twenty to two, and I wouldn't be labeled as some "crazy Japanese girl".

"Sorry," I muttered indifferently, frustrated that this was my second collision in the last three minutes.

I looked up. He was…well…okay looking I guess. Better than average, but nothing special. Purple-gray hair and a strong build, nothing too uncommon around the Japan area.

"Don't you dare touch me you filthy peasant!" Okay, he was nice until he opened his mouth. I just stood there, unaware of what to say. What was I _supposed_ to say? 'Yeah, sure, okay whatever you say'?

HA! As if. I frowned. Something was seriously wrong with him. That is no way to say 'are you all right?' or 'it's okay' in any language whatsoever.

"Hey," I started, my mood flaring, "you know how I said sorry a few moments ago? Yeah, it is officially invalid as of," I paused for effect, "now."

He stood there, his mouth hanging wide open. Wait, he wasn't someone important, right? Not a celebrity or famous movie star?

"No one talks to Ore-sama like that!" he exclaimed with his arms crossed and his eyes focusing onto my own.

Okay…awkward. So, there's a guy standing in the middle of the sidewalk with sharp, piercing eyes focusing on yes, me.

Yeah, not crazy at all. I rolled my eyes, and did the most sensible thing I could think of on the spot. I stuck my tongue out. At him.

I honestly cannot think of a single thing I did wrong to deserve this kind of afternoon. I mean, I've been a good, supportive person. What else does the world want from me? A perfectly wrapped present with pure gold ribbon? Well, hopefully not.

"You're not even worthy of my time," he declared, apathetically.

Not worth _his_ time? He's not worth _my_ time! Stupid people acting all innocent with their stupid little brains thinking absolutely nothing!

Oh well, I didn't need jerks like him in my life. I turned around and walked towards my street. Approximately two blocks away, a total of five minutes.

I didn't even look back. Yes, he is that horrible of a person.

And to think, all this could have been avoided if Haru had walked home with me instead of deciding to flirt with mister I'm-so-popular. She was so going to pay.

I walked up my driveway, currently empty of cars, unlocked the dead bolt and pushed the door open.

"Tadaima," I stated automatically, slipping off my shoes and throwing my backpack into the corner of the living room.

"Nee-san!" my younger sister, Kiku shouted while stumbling out of the dark hallway. She ran into my arms and I hugged her, pressing her cheeks against my own.

"Where's Nii-san?" I asked suspiciously. She simply pointed towards the door, indicating that he wasn't home.

That irresponsible, reckless, immature, careless so-called-older-brother. He is going to be long past dead as soon as I get my hands on him.

I swept Kiku into my arms and hastily put my shoes on while swinging the door open widely.

Who would even dare leave their four-year-old baby sister home alone? Didn't he know the consequences? Of course he did- he just didn't care. Typical high school behavior.

And lucky for me, I knew exactly where he was. I walked swiftly up the stairs to the park and thrown into shock as the tall fluorescent lights blinded me for a few seconds.

I saw Katsuro standing in the corner of the street tennis courts talking to some of his 'friends'. Well I assumed they were his friends, considering that he's too much of a jerk to have any real friends.

That was mean, I'll admit it. But it's also mean to leave your defenseless baby sister at home-alone.

I smirked evilly. Revenge was all mine.

I stalked over to where he was standing and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He turned around mechanically and frowned. I just stood there with my arms crossed and my foot tapping lightly on the solid pavement.

I raised my eyebrow hinting that his excuse was taking too long and patience was not included in my vocabulary.

His eyes shifted from top to bottom, meaning that he was thinking. I just stood there, currently occupied with the idea that he _could _think if he wanted to.

"C'mon Miho-chan," he said playfully, ruffling my hair in the process, "I have a life, you know."

I glared at him, frowning distinctively. He was such a jerk. Why did I even bother putting up with this? It's just a waste of time. And I like my time packaged and safely stored away for later.

"Play a game with me," he coaxed.

I was…well shocked. First, he's here saying that he 'has a life,' implying that he wants nothing to do with me, and now he wants to play me. Confused? Maybe. Try perplexed, bewildered, baffled, yeah, all of those work.

"It's just tennis," and I couldn't do anything except nod slightly and grab the racquet he was holding out to me.

* * *

**So what did you think? Good? Bad? Tell me what you think please! **


	2. 01: Acceptance

**Author's Note: **Okay, so maybe I haven't updated in like…..1…2….3…..-insert somewhat large number here- months. I am very sorry and I could give a million excuses as to why, but I'll just give you the chapter now. Yup. Enjoy~

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own Prince of Tennis –sigh- T.T

False Happiness

01: Acceptance

Plink. Plink. Plink. Plink.

It was faint, consistent sound of water falling down the blades of my dark brown hair onto the ground. Pure, salty sweat. Symbolizing hard work, improvement, and unspoken defeat.

I exhaled heavily and wiped my forehead, still grasping the racquet with a deathly grip.

I wasn't going to lose to my older brother. Not this time- not again. But with a game set of 5-2, and the score situated at 30-15, you can only expect defeat, right? And it's not like I even had a chance at winning in the first place though. I mean, my brother was just talented…motivated. I was, well, not good enough to hold some sort of significance.

But I wanted to win- to be able to say that I wasn't an absolute failure- that I could be worth _something. _ And to be completely honest, I wanted to be brilliant, like Haruka or Fuji. I was _jealous _that they didn't even have to _try _to succeed at life.

I blinked. Wait, wasn't I in the middle of something? Blink. Blink. My eyes re-focused just in time to witness my brother throw the ball into the air, and his racquet forcefully gravitate it closely over the net.

I took two steps back, adjusting my position on the court. Maybe I could do this, to show my brother that he can officially consider me his rival. To be someone, anyone.

Hello cheesy moment.

I couldn't help but wince as the ball made contact with my racquet.

Thack.

Hey, at least I didn't swing and miss and fall on my butt.

…not that I've done that before or anything.

The rally continued with Katsuro's perfectly flawless combinations and my (as much as I hate to admit,) clumsy, yet solid returns. How the hell did he get so good? And why in the world didn't I notice sooner?

Wait…he better pray that he's not going easy on me or else I'll…

Thrack.

My hit ended the rally with the tennis ball landing on the corner line and Katsuro, with his palms on his knees, clearly flustered.

He glanced up and I barely restrained myself from shouting victory at the top of my lungs. I mean, it's not like I won yet. Err…not that I was planning to win or anything.

_Cough._

"I'll just have to step it up a bit, huh…" he finished, muttering insanely to himself.

Someone has totally lost it.

The shot came down rapidly, flinging the racquet out of my hand. Maybe I was already over my limit because it was at that moment, racquet in mid-air, that I knew I had lost.

Fiing.

The sound of the metal fence resonated behind me.

I didn't even look behind me to follow the movement of the ball. Did he not think twice about using that while playing against me? I'm pretty sure I could have died if I was even a couple inches closer to the left side of the court. Okay, so maybe I'm over exaggerating a just little bit. Maybe 'died' isn't the proper word. Maybe more like…broken arm, concussion, some other sort of painful medical injury.

Even though I did complain just moments ago about him going easy on me.

Yes, I am a hypocrite.

- - -

"Hahaha," Katsuro smirked as he finished drinking his entire bottle of water, "I beat you again little sister! Feel free to honor me all you like!" He practically screamed to the air.

Prsssss.

I smiled as the last drops dribbled out of my now empty water bottle. "No, I will not honor you because you are soaking wet."

"Sometimes you're just a jerk."

"Sometimes you're just an idiot."

"…"

"I think I win."

"No you don't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm older."

"You're stupid."

"You're mean."

"You can't even find a girlfriend."

"Th-this has nothing to do with my relationship status! And bringing up that topic is cheating!!"

I burst out laughing at the fact that he was so sensitive when it came to girls. I didn't even see why it mattered.

And we all know who the real winner of this sibling rivalry was.

Yours truly.

- - -

We all walked out of the park with the tennis bag thrown over my shoulder. Yes, _my _shoulder. Because _someone _was trudging, rather than walking. And pretty slowly too. Still hung over about that 'you don't have a girlfriend' statement.

Hello? Just get over it already.

I placed my hand on Kiku's shoulder as we climbed the stairs to our house and I pushed the door open.

"Kiku, go get ready for bed," I stated as we stepped into the night filled house. "And Katsuro, stop being dramatic and help her get into bed."

He only groaned as he followed Kiku around the corner and down the hallway. Maybe people were right. Maybe I will make a good mother someday. Or army commander. Which ever is more entertaining.

I quickly climbed the stairs to my bedroom, grabbing my backpack from the dust covered corner.

Bzzz. Bzzzzzzz.

Was that my phone? Where did I put that thing? My hand dug through my backpack and finally grasped the ringing object.

"Yeah?" I answered somewhat annoyed about the fact that homework remained incomplete in my bag and it was _late_.

"God Miho, I've been trying to reach you for over an hour. It's about time you picked up your phone." I could practically see a look of disgust planted upon her face.

"Umm, sorry. I was busy and….what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh okay!" she started enthusiastically. "So you remember how I was talking to Fuji-kun?" she paused.

"Uh huh." I signaled for her to continue. Of course I remembered. He was the sole reason as to why I walked home by myself. Alone.

"Well, he's so cute and sweet and _amazing._" I heard her sigh with infatuation from the other end of the phone.

"What'd you guys talk about?" I knew she wanted me to ask this question. What can I say? I'm a people pleaser.

"Umm…school, I guess. Tennis, hobbies, family members, friends."

I kicked my bedroom door open and dropped my bag onto my bed. Well this could take a while.

She continued ranting, going into more detail and I sat on my bed in boredom. It's not that I didn't want to hear about it. It's just that it could've waited. She didn't have to call me this instant to talk about _her_ love life.

"…he asked about you."

I mean, it's not like I needed to know every single detail about her conversa-

Wait.

"What happened?"

"He asked about you…" she repeated. I felt my heart jump and as well as her annoyance. Why did she always do that? Why was she always so frustrated when the conversation didn't revolve around herself?

"What did he ask about?" I tried to sound like I didn't care. But the truth was, I did care. I did care what people thought about me- what they said about me- and what they assumed about me. And I did care what Fuji Syuusuke knew about me. Maybe his opinion was the most important opinion of them all, and I hated it. I hated that he was so significant to me and I was nothing to him. But he wanted to know about me, right? That must mean something.

"He just wanted to know about you 'cause you're my friend and all," she sounded a little snappy in my ears. I didn't blame her though. She liked him. Admired him. Practically worshiped him. And she did deserve to be with him, unlike me. She was smart, funny, somewhat self-absorbed. They had a lot in common. Especially that last one.

"Oh…" I replied. I could tell she was lying. I could tell that she didn't want me to know what really happened. Maybe she was saving me, in a sense. She was protecting me- preventing me from falling for him. And honestly, I was thankful. There was no way I would even want to get caught up in some pointless dramatic situation. There wasn't even a reason as to why I could ever be with him anyway.

She continued talking about their conversation, adding her own annotations and analyzing his every word.

I felt sick. But why shouldn't I be allowed to like him publicly? Well, not that whole fangirl-ish 'like'. I mean, why wasn't I good enough?

"Haru-chan?" I interrupted, "can we continue this conversation tomorrow? I still need to do homework…" I trailed off hoping she wouldn't get angry. After all, I was supposed to be encouraging. I just…didn't want to talk about her life anymore. There's a reason as to why I have my own.

"Oh sorry!" she apologized. "Wait!" I heard just as I was about to press the 'end call' button. "Do you mind doing me a favor?"

I'm probably going to regret this…

"Sure," I hesitated.

"…"

"Yes?" I questioned at the silence.

"Jointhegirls'tennisteamwithme," she spat out quickly.

I paused then laughed. "No problem. See you tomorrow." I ended the call before she could think of anything else to ask of me.

I was exhausted. Faking a perky attitude was exhausting. Being happy for someone else's happiness was exhausting. And trying to be someone you're not? Well, maybe that's the worst and most exhausting thing of all.

It was 9:00 pm and I still needed to finish homework. I exhaled heavily and flipped on my desk light while dumping out my books.

Well, at least he asked about me, right? And that means he's thinking about me. I sighed, again. Maybe I shouldn't get my hopes up. But maybe he wanted to get to know me like I wanted to get to know him. Maybe…he…cared…about…me…?

Maybe. I winced.

Maybe not. My heart jerked slightly.

But I'd find out eventually. And maybe I wasn't getting hopeful over nothing. But maybe something could actually bloom from this.

At least it was a step forward. But now I just had to know.

Exactly what would the next step be?

- - -

**Author's Note: **Sorry the ending was kind of…eh. But if you liked or didn't like or just want me to incorporate some ideas, press that pretty green button and I'll try to make it happen. Hope you have a nice day! (:


	3. 02: Projects and Promises

**Author's Note: **Umm…okay, I will explain. I posted this chapter earlier, but I decided to delete and edit it. So the deleted one, for those who read it, you can forget all about it. And you can enjoy this one instead!

Oh! I can now be a beta-reader. So if you want me to edit your story(ies) just contact me somehow…(is that how it works? I'm not sure…)

**Disclaimer: **I will never own Prince of Tennis

False Happiness

02: Projects and Promises

"Well," the teacher started. I really wasn't paying attention. I mean, school is school. It's not like we actually learn life lessons that will be put to good use someday. "We're going to start a project-"

The class groaned, me included. It was the first week of school, and the first week of school means relaxation, not 'bust your brains out'.

"…out of a hundred points. It's going to be a two person science research project written in English."

I already knew who Haru would pick. It was obvious. She was practically drooling over him already.

But she looked towards me instead, and her eyes flickered to Fuji, then back to me with her head tilted slightly. I glanced in the direction her eyes had pointed, sighed, and nodded.

Well, at least she was somewhat asking permission.

"For this project, you can choose your partner. You know the rules. You cannot deny someone the right to work with you. In fact, you should be honored," the teacher told our class. Most of the girls diverted their eyes between Fuji and Kikumaru and the boys, Haruka. I almost laughed, but maybe it would be better to be selected first than to wait until everyone was done choosing. I mean, it was easier knowing that someone would actually want to work with you. "I'll hand out the rubrics after everyone is done moving. Go."

I saw Haru jump out of her seat and race across the room, gracefully yet quickly. She was by Fuji's side in record time.

The girls who had hoped to partner up with Fuji had sullen looks painted on their faces and the boys looked heartbroken. It was a funny sight actually, because at the exact same time, they all turned to Kikumaru Eiji, who was standing near the wall, dumbstruck.

I almost laughed at his tortured face.

But he looked cute, in a sense. Vulnerable. And not as if he were a member of some national tennis team. He looked…ordinary.

I could fully understand as to he had his own fan club. He was completely innocent and naïve and just…

"Eeeerk," I sounded along with a surprised gasp. "What was that for?" I flinched slightly away from the warm hand that pressed against my bare arm. I looked up to find a finger pointing millimeters away from my nose.

Okay, seriously. What's with people and pointing these days? Not only was it rude, but my nose is very, very close to my eye. And I like my eyes in tact and fully functioning.

I widened my view. Red hair, big blue eyes. Kikumaru Eiji. And he looked...desperate.

"I'm sorry, nyaa," he started cautiously, gesturing to the female audience. "I already pr-promised that I'd work with Yamakawa-_chan_."

The girls looked more angry than disappointed. With their eyes glaring through me, practically screaming, 'why would you choose her? She's an absolute nobody,' and, 'you deserve better.' And they were probably right about that. I mean, I wasn't worth his attention.

I just sat uncomfortably in my chair, straightening my bangs that brushed my eyes. But it's not like I asked for his attention. It's not like I even wanted recognition from this named Regular. I _wanted_ to remain invisible. After all, there's nothing wrong with living an anonymous life.

The female crowd dispersed after they realized that Kikumaru was somewhat serious with his stupid decision of coming to me for help.

I quickly jerked my arm away from his grasp, remaining focused on the rubric that lay on my desk since who knows when. This was _my _arm, not his, and he had no right invading my personal space. He had no right to assume that _I_, in the least, would enjoy working with _him._

"Thank you," he stated bluntly. But he seemed happy, I guess though I don't know why he chose me to be his partner. Because I didn't scream every time I saw his face?

Oh…maybe that's why.

"No problem," I mumbled back.

Perhaps he knew he wasn't going to get a single compassionate thought from me. And maybe I wanted him to regret choosing me- hiding behind me.

But what was I supposed to say? 'Oh sorry, I understand where you're coming from. I mean, I have crazy, insane, and obsessive fan-girls chasing after me too.'

Yeah, how about not.

But I guess it wasn't completely his fault that he was just…wanted. Popular. Was it wrong for me to hold that against him?

"Yamakawa-chan?" I looked up, "when are you free?" He was smiling with those wide, blue, curious eyes and his charming aurora that spread and engulfed me.

I couldn't help but smile back. "Well, it's due in a month and we both have extracurriculars so how abou-"

"WAIT! Yamakawa-chan has an activity? Which one?" Umm…because I wasn't talking or anything…

"Tennis. So how abou-"

"TENNIS? Since when?" It would be an understatement that he was jumping up and down with enthusiasm. It was more like an earthquake, or a full-scale eruption of joy. Both pretty much sucked.

"Since today. So anyway abou-"

"REALLY? Why didn't you tell me? Wanna play a match with me? Please? Please? Pleasee?" He was tugging on my freshly ironed uniform…

"Yeah, sure, whatever. So the proj-"

"Nyaa~ when do you wanna play?" By this point, I pretty much gave up. It just wasn't worth the energy to get my point across. And it wouldn't completely be my fault if we failed this pointless project.

"We should play soon before I forget…" his voice faded into the background. I just couldn't wrap his childlike tone around my ears anymore. But my eyes took in everything perfectly, and my heart dropped.

Because Fuji was with Haru and they were laughing…or flirting. But that wasn't the biggest problem. The problem was that they actually seemed to mutually _like_ each other. He wasn't closing her off anymore.

"Yamakawa-chan?"

"Huh?" I blinked, "sorry, what?"

"Oi, are you okay?" He questioned with his eyes staring into mine.

"Yup! Sorry I was kinda…yeah. So what were you saying?"

"It's Fujiko and Haruka-chan!" He ran over and grabbed Fuji by the arm and pulled him over towards my desk with Haru at his heels.

Haru came and stood next to me. "You should ask him to teach you how to play tennis," I whispered in her ear. She blushed.

"YEAH! We would love to help you!" Kikumaru shouted in my ear. Oww…what the? How did he even hear that? I could've sworn I told Haru specifically_ and_ quietly.

"Ha…ha…ha…" Haru started cautiously, making sure not to embarrass herself, "we'd love your help actually." She was doing a pretty good job. "Miho-chan and I would love to learn, thank you so much for you offer," she was directing her gratitude more towards Fuji.

So Haru didn't know that I really could play tennis. Did anyone actually know me?

"Let's go!" Kikumaru pulled me through to classroom door with my arm in his hand _again_. I grumbled. Life is too repetitive.

"Kikumaru-kun! I don't think class ended yet." I felt him hesitate.

"Ahh, the teacher won't notice," he flicked his hand over his shoulder, "and class ends in fifteen minutes anyway," he quickly retorted.

"But I don't have a racquet!"

"You can borrow one."

"I'm not dressed properly."

"We'll take breaks."

Oh shoot. What else was I supposed to use as an excuse? I threw a pleading look towards Haru, but she was smiling, completely oblivious to the fact that I was stumbling backwards through the empty hallway.

"Aww, fine," I gave in.

* * *

"You hold the racquet like this," Fuji turned the racquet in Haru's hand.

"Oh…ohhh." She carefully examined the position. "Wait!" she started up again just as he was about to turn his head, "are you sure? I mean, it feels more comfortable like this!" She adjusted it in her hand.

"Saa…" he rotated the racquet back again. "I'm sure."

I rolled my eyes. I swear, all this lovey-dovey emotion blossoming love-ness was making me sick.

"C'mon Kikumaru-kun! Let's play!"

"Okay!" But instead of standing on the opposite side of the court like any _sane _person would, he walked over to _my _side of the giant green rectangle. "So you hold the racquet-"

I grasped the racquet. It was second nature by now.

"Yeah, like that," he scratched the back of his head. He couldn't seriously believe that I was some helpless girl who had no idea what tennis was about. Then again, no one really told him that I actually knew what I was doing…but then again, no one told him I didn't know what I was doing. Well technically speaking, no one said I was clueless.

Ahh, people and their assumptions.

He trotted back over to his side of the court. I looked over at Fuji who was now, patiently showing Haru how to hit a tennis ball. Would it be rude to that think the picture-perfect moment was fairly pathetic?

I sighed. I didn't care anymore- or I didn't _want _to care anymore. But that like-love feeling was fading. He wasn't _that_ special, I mean. There wasn't anything _interesting_ about being with Fuji Syuusuke. So he was a genius.

I wasn't really sure. But I was absolutely positive that something about me had changed over the past twelve hours. I didn't admire Fuji Syuusuke the way I had before. He was unique, but I didn't really _know _him. And you can't be in love with someone you know nothing about.

And besides, Haru could have him- and she kind of _needed _him. She depended on people so much more than I did.

I don't care. I don't care. _I do not care. _I could not possibly care about someone who did not care about me. I couldn't care about someone who didn't even _look _at me. It's as simple as that.

Kikumaru hit a high, slow serve and I waited for it to bounce, and returned it easily while tossing him a look of confusion. An expression that said something along the lines of 'are you serious? I thought you were a national tennis player,' and he seemed to get the hint because his return was faster and closer to the net.

"There we go," I mumbled satisfied, hitting a low crosscourt drive.

The bell rang, and Kikumaru froze in place, letting the yellow ball bounce for a second time. Lunch had officially begun.

"Yamakawa-chan?" He waved his racquet in the air, "wanna play that game you promised me?"

Huh? I never…oh, I did.

Well, you can never play too much tennis by my record.

"Haha, sure," I flipped my hair out of my face, "but the way I see it, you're supposed to owe me, remember?"

* * *

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